


Doctor Who and the Hipsters

by LivewareProblem



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:16:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1601234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivewareProblem/pseuds/LivewareProblem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Who takes new companion Dorothy “Ace” MacShane on her first trip in the TARDIS: to Shoreditch. Bloody typically, rather than landing in 1963 as intended, they arrive in the East London of the far-distant future of 2013. What horrors lurk on the Bethnal Green Road?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Who and the Hipsters

### Chapter One

"This doesn't look like Shoreditch, Professor!" exclaimed Ace.

The Doctor silently pointed towards the freshly-cleaned street sign, which read simply "Brick Lane. E1." There was no denying that it was East London.

Ace nodded. "I'm not saying it isn't Shoreditch, mind. But it doesn't look like it. You weren't messing about when you said that your ship is a time machine."

"What year would you say this is, Ace?" asked the Doctor.

"Knock it off. How am I supposed to know, Professor?" replied Ace.

"Your past? Your future?"

"The future, I can tell that. These cars are all weird-looking, not old ones."

"But how far in the future? What year is it?" asked the Doctor, more insistently.

"Hey, there's that bagel shop!" said Ace, changing the subject. She was starting to get hungry, and was glad to spot something of the Shoreditch she knew. "Fancy a bite, Professor?"

"I don't see why not," said the Doctor. "But keep your eyes open!"

"What for?" wondered Ace.

"The year!" said the Doctor.

They went into the shop and joined the queue. The bagel shop hasn't changed a bit, thought Ace. In fact, wasn't that the same woman working behind the counter? Couple of decades older at least, though.

When they got to the head of the queue the Doctor ordered a cream cheese bagel, while Ace went for a salt beef with mustard. The Doctor started to scrabble around in his pockets for money, but the woman said "It's on the house, Doctor. As always."

The Doctor insisted on paying anyway, but all he was able to find was a fifty Euro note, whatever that was, which the woman politely declined. They started their lunch in the corner of the shop, and the Doctor tried to explain European Monetary Union.

"Any thoughts about the year?"

"Well, those prices. They're well expensive. But they're still in pounds. And... I think I recognise that woman who served us. She'd have been 20 years younger then."

"So...?"

"2007," picked Ace.

"Not bad, Ace. Not bad," said the Doctor, approvingly.

"Well?"

"It's 2013," said the Doctor, definitively.

"And how can you tell that?" asked Ace.

"It says so in this newspaper," replied the Doctor.

"That's cheating!" declared Ace.

"It's not a game," said the Doctor. "And if it was, there are no rules against looking in the easiest places. Always ask the obvious questions, Ace."

Ace munched her bagel, lost in thought for a moment. If this was 2013...

"Something on your mind, Ace?" asked the Doctor.

"I just did some sums. I was born in 1971."

"So?"

"So, now I'm 42!"

"That's not how it works," said the Doctor.

"Still," replied Ace, and they finished their bagels in silence.

### Chapter Two

"What happened here, Professor?" asked Ace, as they headed out onto Brick Lane again. "When I used to come here with my uncle it was a right rat hole."

"Same thing that happened to Soho, to Camden, to Dalston, to anywhere. The rents are cheap, the creative folk move in, the area gets trendy, the rents get expensive, the big shops arrive, the rich people move in, and the artists move on to the next place, where it happens all over again. It's a cycle."

"And this is...?"

"The tail end of the trendy phase. The big names have already started appearing. Look, there's a Brewdog!" said the Doctor, pointing westward at a bar.

"A what?"

"Never mind. Let's go this way".

They walked along a busy street, and soon passed the railway viaduct on their left, a large light-grey concrete structure that trains went through every five minutes.

"That definitely wasn't here before!" said Ace.

"Wasn't it? The last time I was here was a very long time ago. But it does look quite new, yes."

"Or that." Ace was looking at what appeared to be a stack of shipping containers that had been painted black and converted into a small shopping centre, and labelled "Box Park". "What's a box park and why is it made of containers?" asked Ace.

"Shall we find out?" asked the Doctor.

They headed towards the mall. As they closed Ace could see a variety of clothes stores embedded into the boxes.

"Here, some of this stuff is wicked," said Ace. "I wish we could get this back home."

"In Perivale?" asked the Doctor.

"In 1987," replied Ace.

A passing man - a tall slim figure with a beard - gave a thumbs up to Ace, exclaiming "nice gear!"

"Thanks, mate," replied Ace.

"You have to tell me," said the man, "Where'd you get that jacket? It's in such great condition!"

"Well, the shop" said Ace, and paused. "I can't remember which," she supplied.

"Was it vintage?" asked the bearded man.

"Nah, bought it new. Did the patches myself", replied Ace, proudly. "I'm Ace, by the way. And this is the Professor". She indicated the Doctor.

"Pleased to meet you, Ace and the Professor. I'm Ian."

"What brings you here today?" asked the Doctor.

"Oh, nothing much. Meeting up with some friends in a bit. I should probably text them, in fact. This afternoon, we're going to a show. Want to come along?"

"What sort of show?" asked Ace.

"Well, it's a kind of lo-fi art-rock musical," replied Ian.

"I don't even know what that means!" noted Ace.

"Sounds splendid," said the Doctor. "Where is it?"

"It's at the Rich Mix. Hey, I think I've got a flyer." He rummaged around his shoulder bag for a few moments before producing it. "There you go," he said, handing it to the Doctor. "Hope to see you there, yeah?"

"We shall see", said the Doctor.

The Doctor examined the flyer. "You have another one of these, I take it? You wouldn't want to miss out on your discount."

"Nah, it's OK, I pre-booked tickets on the Internet... And I've just got this new QR code app on my phone!"

Ace looked at Ian blankly.

"Ah, of course," replied the Doctor. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Ian."

"And you!"

Ian shook hands with the Doctor and Ace, and wandered off, toying with a piece of black electronics that he had removed from his pocket.

"Arts students! They never change," said Ace.

"You'd be surprised," said the Doctor. "From the t-shirt, I rather fancy he was a chemist. Or maybe he's just being ironic. It's ever so hard to tell around here."

### Chapter Three

It was a quiet afternoon, which Ace was glad of. Iceworld had been pretty tiring, all things considered. They had made their way to a now-ubiquitous coffee chain and were now looking up at the skyline from their table on the pavement.

"That's new," said Ace, pointing up at a pointy skyscraper to the south.

"The Shard, it's called," said the Doctor. "What about that one?" he said, pointing at a closer building, again to the south, this one shaped rather more roundly.

Ace burst out laughing. "It looks like an enormous - "

"Gherkin, yes," interrupted the Doctor. "It was built to replace the Baltic Exchange, which was blown up by the IRA a little after your time."

Ace stopped laughing.

"God, that's not still going on, is it?" Ace asked.

"It's not exactly perfect", said the Doctor. "But then, politics never is. The Queen and Martin McGuiness have shaken hands, that's the main thing."

"So the war is over?"

"Bar a few rough edges."

They sipped their coffees. Ace had never had anything like hers in London before, although they had made similar drinks on Iceworld.

"Do you want to go to this show, Ace?" asked the Doctor.

"Maybe... what is it?" replied Ace.

"Well, like the flyer says, it's a 'lo-fi art-rock musical'."

"And what's that, when it's at home?" wondered Ace.

"I have no idea. But I wouldn't mind finding out," in a tone of voice that Ace by now realised meant there was no stopping him.

### Chapter Four

Money, Ace could tell, was going to be a problem with the Doctor. She could understand why he'd not had any on Iceworld - it wasn't as if he'd been there before. But pounds were different, and going from what the Doctor had said, he'd spent plenty of time here. Even with the discount from the flyer, the Doctor still didn't have enough.

Luckily the man behind the counter was willing to accept the Euro note, although Ace suspected not at a very good rate. He even gave them some change back, which would come in handy if they stayed there for much longer. Ace didn't recognise any of the notes, but did spot the face of Charles Darwin on the tenner.

"They got rid of old Florence, then," she noted.

"Well, I'm sure she'd be glad with her run. What, twenty years? Not bad," replied the Doctor.

Ace took another look at the coins. "And is it me, or have some of these got smaller?"

"Probably you," said the Doctor. "Things always look smaller when you've grown up, and you've done a lot of that recently."

The auditorium - if you could call it that - was a large space with a shallow ceiling. It looked like it used to be a factory floor. They took their cheap plastic seats, and the Doctor started reading the programme. Ace marvelled at the expensive-looking machinery on the stage. Some kind of futuristic sound equipment, she thought. She must have a gander at that afterwards.

Several minutes later, Ian entered with a couple of friends.

"Ah, Ace! And the Professor!" he exclaimed. "Glad you came. It's going to be a great show. This is Suzy and this is Steve, by the way. Suzy and Steve, Ace and the Professor."

"I prefer 'the Doctor', actually," said the Doctor. "You know, I'm still not quite sure what this is about," he said, waving the programme. "It's like it's written in another language."

"You'll see," said Suzy. "It's going to be totally mind-blowing."

"So I'm told," said Steve. "By the way, can I just say, Doctor, I really like your pullover. In fact, the whole ensemble."

Ace looked suspiciously at Steve.

The Doctor answered carefully "Do you know, nobody's ever told me that before. Thank you!"

"It's very brave. I don't think I'd dare to wear something like that, of course. But still," said Steve.

"You should have seen the coat I used to wear! In fact, I've been trying to get rid of it, if you're interested?" said the Doctor. "Tell me, what do you think of my umbrella?" He handed it over to Steve.

"O.M.G.," said Steve. "Where'd you get that? It goes perfectly with the question mark motif you've got going on."

"I made it myself. A simple additive manufacturing process..."

"Awesome, man."

Before Steve was able to ask any further questions the house lights started to dim, and the crowd hushed. The act - whoever they were and whatever they did - were about to come on stage.

### Chapter Five

Ace awoke, feeling very relaxed. She was still in the same seat as before, as was the Doctor, Steve, and a dozen or so others in the audience. Not Ian and Suzy, though. Apart from them, it was empty.

The Doctor was still asleep. She tapped him lightly.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Ace?" he murmured.

"I think something's gone wrong."

That roused him. He looked around "I can see why you'd think that. Steve, are you OK?"

Steve was in a more relaxed state than either of them.

"Professor, what just happened?" asked Ace.

"I don't know. But whatever it is, I'm guessing it's only affected the people who hadn't seen the show before. You hadn't seen it before, had you, Steve?"

"No," said Steve. That was all he would say, for now.

A couple of minutes later, some ushers came round with coffee. They apologised for having bought it from a coffee chain - Ace didn't recognise the name although it sounded like something out of Battlestar Galactica - and hoped it would suffice.

A couple of minutes after that everyone started to wake up properly.

"So, when did they first invite you to go to the show?" asked the Doctor.

"Oh, ages ago. Couldn't, though. Work, you know how it is," said Steve.

"And what did you think of it?" asked the Doctor.

"It was awesome, wasn't it. I especially liked the bits with the things." Steve smiled, even though it wasn't terribly clear that he remembered it in any more detail than Ace did.

"By the way," he continued. "Did you say that you had a coat going?"

### Chapter Six

The Doctor had parked the Tardis just off Totter's Lane, a short walk away, in an area that looked a little bit more like the Shoreditch she remembered.

"We must have been in there for hours," said Ace.

"Nah," said Steve. "It gets dark quick in November."

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten... Blimey, time really does go by fast, doesn't it," covered Ace.

As they turned the corner into Totter's Lane, they saw the familiar blue box that was now Ace's home. A small group of twentysomethings had surrounded it and were expressing their admiration. They were crowding it, and the Doctor was worried that sneaking inside might be difficult. He shot a look at Ace.

As they strode straight toward it, Steve asked "What's this?"

"Some pop-up art!" said one of the group.

"It's a found art piece, actually," said another.

"Are you sure it's not left art," said a third one. They all groaned at that, and the second one continued.

"It's a Metropolitan Police telephone box from the 1960s. They used to use these before they had police radios, apparently. I just Googled it on my Android."

Ace had no idea what that last sentence meant, but it sounded authoritative. She thought back to art class. She'd hated it, but she'd picked up one or two things. She knew something that was guaranteed to cause a diversion. "But what does it mean?"

The group all turned to face her and propagated their various theories, while the Doctor was able to slip in and retrieve the coat unnoticed.

Ace had expected a load of old nonsense, and most of it was, but one of this lot was right on the money, and she couldn't even tell him.

"I think it's about time. And space," he'd said.

He was a tall skinny chap wearing a bow tie and a chin. He half looked liked a professor himself, although he wasn't old enough.

"Well, this police box from the 1960s in the 2010s is an anachronism. But look around us. The street is full of old stuff. That post box - it says GR on it - there hasn't been a King George since 1952. But this, this is unusual. This could have come straight from fifty years ago and nobody would know any different."

"What about the space?"

"Well, what's inside the box? Could be anything. Could be everything. Space and time. Time and space."

He'd never know how right he was, though. It was hardly as if Ace could say anything. Besides, the need for the diversion was over now, as she could hear the Tardis door closing. The Doctor arrived, coat in hand.

"Found it! I do hope it's your size," he said to Steve.

It was the worst coat that Ace had ever seen. Scratch that, she thought, it was the worst anything that Ace had ever seen. It was a multi-coloured abomination, and must have been painstakingly made out of dozens of bits of material, all of which clashed. It was as if someone had asked for a really tasteless coat, and then sent back several increasingly badly designed coats until they finally got an absolutely outrageous coat. The coat to end all coats. The coat of doom.

"Ooh, thanks. Let's see, shall we," said Steve, and tried it on.

It fit. It didn't look good on him, but Ace knew that wasn't his fault.

"What do you think?" asked the Doctor.

"I quite like it!" said Steve, looking at his reflection in a shop window. "Are you sure you don't want anything for it?"

"I insist!" said the Doctor. "Now, I'm afraid Ace and I have business. Perhaps we'll see each other again soon!"

"Yeah. There's this show I'm going to tomorrow, in fact. A lo-fi art-rock musical. You should come! I've got a flyer..."

For all Ace knew lo-fi art-rock musicals might come in waves, but it turned out to be the matinee performance of that same show.

"I think we should be able to make it," said the Doctor. "Nice to meet you! Give my regards to Ian and Suzy! Come along, Ace!"

The Doctor and Ace headed towards Bishopsgate again, leaving Steve with the art admirers.

"You've been keeping quiet. What do you think it is, then?" asked one of them.

"I dunno. Perhaps it's a kind of portable walk-in wardrobe," mused Steve.

### Chapter Seven

"What was that all about then, Doctor?" asked Ace.

"He never would have worn that coat before!" said the Doctor. "Do you remember what he said about my pullover? But then, after the show, he was happy to put it on. Even offered money for it!"

"Something happened at that show! Something we forgot," said Ace.

"Yes. We must go there again. And this time, we must stop them."

The Doctor wouldn't let them go back to the Tardis until everything was sorted. He said it would attract too much attention to spend the night there. Fortunately, Ace was jetlagged anyway - the time difference between Iceworld and London was nasty - so they just stayed up all night in a 24-hour coffee shop themed around comics. Ace had wanted to go clubbing - she'd noticed lots of nightclubs nearby - but the Doctor pointed out that she was 17. Ace didn't see why that was a problem - she could usually pass for her early 20s - and in any case, she had a provisional driving license which said she was 42.

Ultimately Ace decided that sitting down with some comic books would be simpler than arguing. She'd found a couple of issues of something called Before Watchmen which someone had left at the table. She could see why - they weren't very good. The art was pretty, though.

The Doctor agreed. "Alan was not very impressed, either. I remember he said 'Doctor - .'"

Ace interrupted him "You know Alan Moore?! Wicked!"

"We've crossed paths a few times, let's put it like that. Remind me to tell you about the Order of the Black Sun one of these days..."

"So, so, so," said Ace, excitedly. "Did you ever ask him how V for Vendetta was supposed to end? I was well gutted when Warrior stopped."

"I think I can do better than that. Tell you what, after we're done here, let's go to the Tardis library."

Ace's face lit up. "Ace!"

The Doctor regarded Ace for a moment. "Makes sense. Should have guessed, really." The Doctor had got her pegged, she had to admit. If it hadn't been for discovering the V for Vendetta strip in Warrior magazine, would she have got quite as enthusiastic about making Nitro-Nine? And if that hadn't happened, she wouldn't have ended up on Iceworld, would she? It was funny how one thing led to another. Everything was linked.

"Hey, does that mean you also have the rest of Halo Jones?"

The Doctor frowned at that. "Bad news, I'm afraid."

### Chapter Eight

Having spent all morning lurking around Shoreditch coffee shops, the Doctor and Ace approached the Rich Mix on Bethnal Green Road. It used to be a clothes factory, but was now a combination cinema/arts venue.

"I'm glad they've done something with this. Back home they'd just leave the buildings empty," said Ace.

"Times have changed. You should see what they've done with Perivale! Wouldn't be long on the Central line. Or a short hop in the Tardis," said the Doctor.

"Nah, I'm never going back there again. Even if I am in my 40s!"

"That's as well. The next trip will be a tricky one, anyway."

"Oh?"

"They always are tricky, I mean."

Crossing the threshold, Ace's skin prickled. It hadn't been like this the first time, but back then she hadn't been looking out for anything dodgy. Or maybe something had changed in her. What had happened? She still didn't really remember, but whatever it was obviously hadn't affected her and the Doctor as badly as it did poor Steve.

They shuffled in, this time taking seats at the front, near the stage. The Doctor seemed convinced they didn't need to take any precautions, but then the Doctor was always like that. Ian soon arrived, followed by Suzy and Steve. They waved hello but didn't come over, and took up seats near the back, the same place they'd all sat before.

The lights started dimming much sooner than before, it seemed. The Doctor and Ace watched carefully, knowing that they'd seen this before yet having no idea what to expect.

The crowd hushed.

A man walked on stage. He was tall, bearded, and wore clothes that to Ace's mind were quite a bit out of date. They weren't that out of place here in the distant future of 2013, admittedly.

"Hi, I'm Barry Suthertree. I've been in residency here for a while. Feels like decades. Course the area's changed a lot since then. For one thing, there's a lot more - "

"I know what you are!" shouted the Doctor.

"Oh, a heckler! I do like hecklers!" gleamed Barry. "I'm going to enjoy this. What's your name?"

The Doctor didn't answer.

"Oh come on, what can I call you?" insisted Barry.

"I'm the Doctor."

"And who's that there? Your niece? Your daughter?"

"This is Ace. My friend."

"And what do you do, Doctor?"

"Oh, this and that. Bits and pieces. Settling scores and righting wrongs. Fighting injustice and defeating evils. That sort of thing."

"Well that's an unusual one. I was expecting accountant! Have you travelled far to be here?"

"Actually, yes. All the way from Gallifrey, by way of Iceworld."

"From where?"

"Oh, you wouldn't have heard of it." said the Doctor. He'd wrong-footed Barry slightly, and pressed on, taking the advantage. "What about you? Where are you from?"

"I'm local," said Barry. "Furthest I've been in the last decade was Caledonian Road! Got homesick, had to come back."

"Yes, tied to a location. I thought so. You've been here for about 60 years, I'm guessing. It was good pickings for you, at first."

"Sorry?" said Barry, not liking the way this was going.

"So much opportunity to feed off hate and humiliation. You were a big man, back in the day."

Barry nodded, reluctantly.

"But then there was a dry spell."

"The 1980s were tough," agreed Barry. "Ben Elton and that lot. The 'alternative comedy revolution'."

Ace smiled at that. "The Comic Strip! The Young Ones!" she exclaimed.

"Completely ruined my career, they did," said Barry.

"Until," said the Doctor.

"Well, kids started coming to my gigs. A few at first, then more. They said I should put out a DVD. So I did. It sold buckets," said Barry.

"What, why would anyone like you? Especially this lot? They hadn't even been born when you went out of fashion." said Ace. It was coming back to her, that first performance. He'd said some really nasty things about women, about Asian people, and about "poofters", as he had put it. The material was bad enough itself, but Ace thought the worst thing was that it had got good laughs.

"Irony!" said the Doctor. "You've been enhancing their sense of irony so you can feed on their laughter! But how?"

"And why didn't you just change your act?" asked Ace.

That stopped Barry right in his tracks.

"But I couldn't do that. I - I - ." He tailed off. "I didn't think of that," he eventually conceded. He stopped, defeated.

### Chapter Nine

"So, what did you think of the future, Ace?" asked the Doctor.

"Well, it was weird, wasn't it? It's not as bad as all that. That war never happened, did it, Professor?"

"The Third World War? No. Not yet."

"You mean it does later?" asked Ace.

"I wouldn't want to spoil it for you, Ace," replied the Doctor.

They'd spent quite some time mopping up. What Ace had taken to be sound equipment had turned out to be the mind control rays that Barry had been using. He'd bought them from the market on Petticoat Lane ages back, which was a bit worrying, but not something they could do something about now. Steve was much better. The last they'd seen him he was trying to get rid of that coat. The Doctor wouldn't have it back, but he recommended a second-hand clothes shop in Islington that might take it.

"But it wasn't all that great, either. Those people saying they liked things even though they didn't really. What's that all about?"

"I couldn't say," said the Doctor. "It's certainly something I've never done."

"What I don't understand is why it didn't affect us," asked Ace.

"We got knocked out at the same time they did," pointed out the Doctor.

"But after that we were fine, weren't we? We knew something was wrong."

"We're time travellers. We had a reason to be anachronistic, unlike the rest of them. They were vulnerable."

"I see," said Ace, although she didn't really.

They entered the Tardis.

"Here, Professor. Let me get this straight, does this mean that you seriously used to wear that coat?"

"Well, Ace, I was a different man, then..."


End file.
